


When Extremes Meet

by breemeup



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, The X-Files
Genre: F/F, science fiction AU, x-files au, yeah i did it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-04-25 01:56:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4942210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breemeup/pseuds/breemeup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Agent Korra Raava gets assigned to the X-files, she's more than unhappy. </p><p>When Agent Asami Sato gets assigned a new partner, she's just a bit disgruntled.</p><p>Together, these two will discover spirits, aliens, and a government conspiracy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yup, that's right, I did it. I wrote that shitty X-files au. Enjoy (:
> 
> My Patreon: www.patreon.com/breemeup
> 
> tumblr: gayna-scully.tumblr.com

 “Hey! Spooky Sato!” Asami turns around to try and find the source of the jeer, but of course, once she looks, all the agents are staring studiously at their work.

It shouldn't bother her anymore, that nickname, but for some reason she can't name, it does. Immensely. So much so that last time Agent Tahno had called her that, she had to be put on paid leave for punching him in the face.

She trudges to her office, her face red with anger. As if this day wasn't already bad enough, what with her being assigned a “partner”, she just had to be called her old Quantico nickname today. _Fuck_.

Asami opens her office door and settles into her chair with a sigh. The office is littered with unsolved files, her walls tacked with reminders and appointments and ideas for case files. A thin layer of the dust that seems to accumulate no matter what in this basement covers everything, even Asami. She blows the dust off her laptop and opens it up.

 _Let's see here,_ she thinks as she looks up her new partner's name in the Bureau database, _Who is this Korra Raava person_

-

Agent Korra Raava was having a bad day. Not just any bad day, a spectacularly very bad, no good, very rotten kind of bad day. First, her idiot of a boyfriend had broken up with her (via text of all things, the socially inept asshole). She then had the misfortune of finding out that her rent check had bounced, and her landlady had made extra sure to make it clear that she was “This close, this close, from breaking the lease”. Then, she'd been called into the Bureau an hour earlier than usual, causing her to miss out on her morning coffee, which meant that she was at the exact opposite of her best. _How could this day possibly get any worse_.

As if just to mock her, the universe answers her question.

-

“I _what_?” Korra glares at Assistant Director Beifong, unable to process this new information.

“I'm sorry, Agent Raava, have you perhaps suffered a sudden loss of hearing?” Beifong raises an eyebrow, her arms crossed.

“N-no?”

“No? Then why do you seem unable to comprehend what I'm telling you”. Beifong glares right back at Korra.

“Sorry, ma'am,” Korra sighs, “I guess I'm just having trouble understanding why I'm being demoted to _Spooky Sato's_ babysitter”.

“Agent Raava,” Lin Beifong massages her temples, “Believe me when I say that this was not my idea, in fact, I spoke out against it. You're useless down at the basement, I need you here, working kidnappings. But you know, orders from the top”.

“Ugh,” Korra looks down at her hands, struggling not to break down and cry. Korra's not much of a crier, in fact the last time she'd cried had been her junior year of high school when she'd been stood up at the prom, but this day has been enough to make her want to break her streak. She'd poured everything, _everything_ into the kidnapping unit, kicking down doors, facing down some of the most dangerous men in the world, working her way to the top, and now it was all for fucking nothing. She was being assigned as Spooky's partner for Christ sake.

The other agent had quite the reputation, and it definitely wasn't a good one. At Quantico, she'd excelled as a criminal profiler, astounding all with her brilliance. But as soon as she'd graduated, everything seemed to fall apart. She'd started to see spirits everywhere, claiming that they'd been responsible for her mother's disappeareance. Suddenly, the suspects weren't evil men and women, but rather Yetis, and giant owls, and aliens. It was no wonder Sato had been banished to the basement, to the X-files unit.

 _And I guess so have I_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, Bree here!
> 
> Expect the chapters of this fic to be rather short, I think it fits better with the pacing I'm going for.
> 
> Also, my Patreon is up and you can find it at https://www.patreon.com/breemeup. Please help in any way you can! Even a dollar a month is incredibly helpful.
> 
> If you want to follow me or send me anon hate, my tumblr is hansolosmother

Korra walks down the steps to the basement, resigned to her fate.

“Hello?” she asks as she steps into the X-files office, her voice echoing against the cold basement walls, “Anybody here? Agent Sato?"

There is no reply, so Korra takes in her surroundings. The only word that could possibly describe this room is “chaotic”. Case files are thrown haphazardly around the room, sorted in an order that only a complete weirdo would ever be able to decipher. Strange instruments twirl and spin and beep and tic around the room, creating an intricate kind of cacophony. On the wall, a poster of a strange, faceless, caterpillar-like creature sits.

“Spooky,” Korra mutters under her breath.

“You called?” A voice comes from and Korra turns around in shock. Right at the door of the office stands an ethereally tall, black haired woman, her eyebrow raised and her arms crossed. She is... definitely not what Korra had expected. She thought she'd be dealing with someone a bit more eccentric looking, someone in a trench coat and a fedora or something.

“Oh no!” Korra says, flustered, “Not you, I meant the uh,” she gestures at the poster.

“Ah,” Agent Sato steps forward, closer to Korra and the poster, “The Face Stealer, also known as Koh in several East Asian countries. We think he's some sort of alien race, trapped here on earth and biding his time before returning home”.

“ _We”? So there are more of these spooks out there?_

“You look skeptical, Agent Raava,” Sato says.

“Well, is there any evidence that this “Face Stealer” exists?” Korra shrugs, “I mean extraordinary claims require extraordinary-”

“Extraordinary evidence, yes I am aware of the saying. And as for evidence,” Sato digs under her desk and pulls out a dusty file, “An American journalist whose name is lost to time,was separated from the platoon he'd been photographing. He wandered the jungle for days, trying to avoid Vietcong soldiers, as well as tigers. At last he arrived, nearly delirious and barely alive, to a small mountain village in Northern Vietnam and he found, well, look for yourself”. Sato hands the file to Korra who blows off the dust and opens it up.

She looks inside and what she sees is absolutely chilling. Photo after photo after photo reveals a terrifying sight: people, completely normal people, except for one thing:

“Their faces are gone!” Korra exclaims.

“Indeed they are,” Sato adjusts her glasses, “You're taking this rather well, considering that when the journalist had finally been found, he was completely delirious, ranting about stolen faces and evil spirits. He had to be sedated and sent to a field hospital. In the morning, when the nurses came in to check on the patients, they found nothing on his bed except for his camera and a mirror. He was never heard from again”.

“Well that's a pretty good story to tell around the campfire, but these pictures don't prove anything. I mean how do we know they're not some elaborate hoax? How do we even know the story's real?” Korra raises her eyebrow skeptically.

“I had them sent to Forensics to try and see if they'd been tampered with, but they couldn't make heads or tails of it. They'd run every test, and these photos seem to be 100% authentic” Asami shrugs.

“But- but people don't just _lose their faces_ , Sato. There has to be some kind of explanation for this. Maybe napalm?” Korra looks from the photos to Sato and to the photos again.

Sato nods her head towards the poster of the creepy caterpillar.

“Sato. No.” Korra says flatly.

“I mean,” Sato grins, “He is called 'The Face Stealer', after all”.


	3. Chapter 3

And so Korra finds herself on a car bound for the tiny town of Beaver Crossing, Nebraska to talk to an Ex-Vietnam war nurse. She lets Sato do the driving and regrets making that choice immediately, as the woman's music of choice turns out to be New Wave, something that makes Korra want to tear out her ear drums. 

Sato sings softly as they make their way down the highway. “Take on me (take on me), take me oooon (take on me)”

 _More like take me out of this fucking car,_ Korra crosses her arms and slouches in her seat like a child who was just told that they're going to the dentist instead of Disneyland. At least they'd made it out of the D.C. traffic though. That had been an utter nightmare, as Sato had taken the stop and go traffic as an opportunity to test out her very off beat drumming skills on the steering wheel.

But now, at least, they were on the open highway, smack dab in the Middle of Nowhere, USA. Korra looks out her window, staring at the rows and rows and rows and rows and rows of seemingly eternal corn. _At least Sato didn't try talking to me_ , and Korra finds herself lulled to sleep by the endless corn and “Lullaby” by The Cure.

-

Asami pulls up to the trailer park and checks the address of the nurse in her notebook. “Okay,” she whispers and pulls up to the third trailer from the front, a quaint looking mess of homey decorations, Bible verses, and bird feeders.

She parks the car, turns off the cassette player, and looks over at Korra, who, in sleep, looks more content and peaceful than Asami has ever seen her before. It almost seems a crime to wake her, but Asami does it anyway, gently tapping Korra's arm. When Korra doesn't so much as stir, Asami shakes her, and Korra jolts awake, her hand instinctively going for her gun.

“Whoa,” Asami pulls back and then chuckles at the look on Korra's face _How cute_ , “It's fine, Raava, we're here”.

-

Korra huffs angrily and opens the car door, slamming it shut. Sato follows suit and walks up to the trailer's door. _Sato is fucking infuriating. First she wakes me up and then she laughs at me? What the fuck_.

Sato knocks on the door, and a man opens it, shakes Sato's hand, and introduces himself as Ian Brosch.

“Come in, come in, Agents,” the man motions inside, “She's having one of her good days today, so she should be able to answer any of your questions”.

'She' is an elderly woman who sits on a floral patterned couch in the corner of the living room, watching M.A.S.H quietly.

“Ma?” the man walks over to the woman and kneels down, “These are FBI agents Sato and Raava, they're here to ask you some questions about the war, okay?”

The woman nods silently and turns of the television with a remote.

“Agents,” Ian turns to them, “Can I get you anything? Water, some iced tea?”

Korra opens her mouth to ask for some tea, but Sato interrupts.

“No, we won't have anything, thank you,” she says distractedly as she digs in her briefcase and brings out a tape recorder.

“You're taping her?” Ian raises an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Sato answers as she inserts a new tape into the recorder, “For posterity's sake”.

“Ah,” Ian shrugs and leaves for the kitchen.

“Hello,” Sato says softly, turning on the recorder, “I'm Agent Asami Sato, and this is Agent Korra Raava. We're here to ask you some questions about your work during the war, if that's okay?”

The woman nods.

“Thank you,” Sato answers as Korra sits on the couch and pulls out her notebook, “Now could you please state your name and your job during the war?”

“Daisy Brosch, Head Field Nurse,” the woman replies in a frail voice. In spite of the fact that the war ended about 30 years ago, Daisy looks as if she's aged fifty in the time since.

“And,” Sato looks up at Daisy, “Do you remember a patient named Robert Laughlin? He was in your hospital, if the record is correct,” Daisy doesn't answer, “He was an American journalist? He would have come in towards the end of the war”.

“I remember,” Daisy nods, “I remember that young man, he was in such a state when they found him, rambling and raving”.

“Then what happened, Daisy?” Sato prompts her gently.

“Why, we brought him into the hospital of course. I was the head nurse at the time, so I took him under my special care. No one knew what was wrong with him, he seemed fine, just a little dehydrated, malnourished maybe, but something in his brain, something had broken. He was mumbling the whole time he was there. That's how we knew he was gone, when the hospital was quiet. I ran to his bed, and he was gone. All that was left was his camera with those horrid photos he took”.

Asami nods and then says, “And Daisy, do you remember what he was mumbling about?”

“Now let's see,” Daisy closes her eyes, “Something about some kind of, of a beast hiding in the shadows, about faceless babies, about a beast, a beast”.

“What kind of beast?” Asami says softly.

“A-a body like a gigantic centipede, long and writhing like an earthworm in the rain”

Korra shivers involuntarily.

“And the face?”

“The face, the face,” Daisy starts to cry, “No! I won't tell, I won't! I won't!”

Ian comes running out of the kitchen as Daisy screams.

“Shh, shh,” he calms her and then looks up at Korra and Sato, “I think you'd better go, my mother's been through enough”.

Sato nods and stops the tape recorder, making for the door. Korra follows her, almost forgetting her notebook in her haste.

“What was that?” she asks her partner as they walk through the car.

“What was what?” Sato looks over at Korra.

“You knew she was distressed, but you pushed, you pushed her until she fucking cried!”

“Raava, this is bigger than us, than her! We might have evidence of some kind of extraterrestrial intelligence, this is huge!”

Korra looks over at Sato in disbelief, “Forget it,” she scoffs, taking the keys from Sato, “I'll drive”.

“Hey!” Sato reaches for her keys, but Korra is already in the driver's seat.

“Let's go,” Korra starts the engine.

“Sure. Fine. Whatever,” Sato mutters.

 _It's going to be a long ride back to D.C.,_ Korra thinks as she backs the car out of the driveway.

 


	4. Chapter 4

 It's about 3 A.M. and Korra is zooming on the highway, set on making it back to D.C. before dawn. Asami is curled up in the passenger's seat, the jazz that Korra's playing making her feel warm and safe, nearly putting her to sleep. Just before she lets her eyes flutter shut, she sees a light in the distance, moving toward them, and she jolts up, fully awake.

“Korra!” she reaches for the steering wheel and drives them into the corn field.

“What the hell!” Korra pushes Asami back, “Are you insane?”

“Shh,” Asami motions for Korra to turn off the car and take out the keys. Korra complies with a sigh.

“What's going on?” she whispers.

“They were going to run us off the road,” Asami whispers back, pulling on a strand of her hair nervously.

“What? Why?”

“I don't know. I think we might be on to something, something they don't want us to know”.

“They?”

“The CIA, the government, whoever it was that was in that car,” Asami's mind races, going through all the possibilities. There were several people who wanted her dead, being an insistent, curious FBI agent who asks the wrong questions and all.

“I can't believe this,” Korra puts her head on the steering wheel, “This is insane. We _work_ for the government, Sato”.

Asami hears a sound in the bushes and shushes Korra again.

“Where did they go?” A man's voice breaks the silence.

Korra and Asami look up in shock.

“Get out of the car,” Asami mouths.

Korra nods silently and opens the door as quietly as she can and Asami does the same. _What could they possibly want? Are we really onto something that serious?_ Asami thinks as she stealthily leads Korra through the corn field.

“I think I heard something!” another voice, a woman's this time, makes Korra jump.

_Korra's gonna get us caught._

“I found the car!” the man calls back.

 _The car? What's in the- oh shit,_ “The tape!” she whispers.

Korra looks at her wide eyed in realization.

“Find the tape!” the woman calls back, confirming Asami's fears, “I'll look for them”.

_Fuck._

“Korra,” Asami whispers, “We need to split up, we make too much noise together”.

Korra nods in affirmation and takes out her gun, clicking the safety off. She and Asami head out in opposite directions, deeper into the field.

-

Korra finds herself completely lost in the maze of corn, the full moon shining down on her. She keeps moving forward, trying to get a safe distance away from Asami, from the car so that she can hide out until their pursuers leave.

She finally settles into a small open patch of empty earth, crouching down and allowing the corn around her to keep her hidden. Her pulse is racing wildly and it's all she can do to keep her panting from alerting her pursuers of her presence. Korra has dealt with her fair share of dangerous characters before, but this is different. She's faced down kidnappers, drug lords, and terrorists, but never members of her own government. It's a difficult thing to process, being tracked by those who share the same boss she does. It throws her for a loop, and she finds herself resisting the temptation to just give herself up. After all, if the government is trying to apprehend her, it must be for a good reason, right?

The night wind blows through the cornfield, making the dry husks sway and rattle eerily. The moonlight seems sinister, almost evil and Korra has to fight to calm herself and focus on the task at hand. She hears a branch break near her, and for some reason, her mind leaps immediately to the story Daisy had told earlier. Korra thinks of the creeping, massive beast of the legend, the hairs on her arms standing, as if they too area as tense as she is. The faceless children, the missing photographer, Daisy's screaming face, all flash before her mind's eye, and as the rustling in the corn grows louder and louder, Korra finds herself unable to move in terror. The corn nearest her moves as it, whatever it is, grows closer to her, and Korra takes a deep breath, ready to meet her pursuer, whether it be government agent or legendary monster.

A figure burst through the corn and into the small clearing, and Korra brings up her gun, ready to fire it at a moment's notice.

“Korra!” A voice whispers, and Korra looks up. Sato is standing in front of her, her arm out to calm Korra.

“Fuck,” Korra breathes, lowering her gun, “Sato, what are you doing here?”

“They're gone”.

“Already?” Korra raises an eyebrow and holsters her gun.

“Yeah,” Sato nods, “They must have found what they were looking for”.

“Why?” Korra stands, “What could they possibly want with a tape of some old lady rambling about a myth?”

“I have no idea. We must be onto something the government doesn't want to be known. Lots of stuff went down in Nam”.

Korra nods. This makes sense, perhaps the old woman was delusional because of some experimental drug or weapon unleashed on Vietnam. With Sato in front of her, the face stealer ceases to feel real, and Korra finds herself embarrassed at her prior terror.

“Let's go back to the car,” She dusts herself off and turns towards Sato, “Sucks about the tape, though”.

Sato smiles slightly and shrugs, turning in the direction of the car.

-

Asami sits in the passenger seat of the car and watches Korra start the car and reach for the cassette player.

“The fuck?” Korra looks over at Asami, puzzled. The tape deck is empty, Korra's jazz tape gone.

“Like I said,” Asami reaches into her pocket, “They must have thought they'd found what they came for”.

Asami holds the tape in her hand with a grin as Korra looks at her in disbelief.

“The fuck?” Korra gasps.

-

Miles away, the pair of mysterious government agents sit in their own car.

“You found the tape?” The woman asks the man. The man nods in response and puts the tape into the player.

“ _The way you wear your hat, the way you sip your tea, the memories of all that, no they can't take that away from me”_ Ella Fitzgerald's voice croons over the speakers.

The two agents look at each other.

“The fuck?” the woman says.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

“Raava, I have some friends coming in,” Sato says the next day as Korra types up her case report. 

“Mm” Korra says without looking up.

“They call themselves The Red Lotus, after the White Lotus, a group of conspirators thought to run the world”.

“You mean the Illuminati, Sato,” Korra looks up at the other woman.

“Yeah but the Illuminati isn't real”

Korra rolls her eyes and turns back to her work.

“They have some information on the face stealer,” Sato moves over to Korra's desk.

“Is the information that it's not real?” Korra mutters.

Sato ignores her and continues, “This could be our first big break in this case! Come on Raava, that doesn't excite you even a little bit?”

Korra's about to answer when the door to the office opens.

“Sato!” A man with long scruffy hair and a mustache, walks through the door, followed by the strangest group of people Korra has ever seen.

“Ghazan!” Sato exclaims, “Come in, come in! Meet my partner”.

The group walks over to Korra's desk, much to her dismay, and Sato introduces them.

“This is Ghazan,” she motions to the mustachioed man, who smiles, “Ming-Hua,” a woman with long black hair and two prosthetic arms nods, “P'li,” an improbably tall woman with a braided mohawk and a tattoo on her forehead nods as well, “And-”

“And I'm Zaheer,” the last of the group, a short, scarred, bald man moves forward and holds out his hand for Korra to shake it. She takes his hand firmly and musters up a small smile.

“Nice to meet you all,” she lies, turning back to her work.

“I have something to show you,” Zaheer turns to Sato excitedly, “P'li, love, would you mind bringing out the slides?”

“Let me set up the projector,” Sato moves to a cabinet in the back of the office and brings out a slide projector, “What do you have?” she turns to P'li.

P'li sits down next to the projector and inserts the slides.

“Sato, you're going to love this,” Ghazan grins as P'li projects the first slide.

In spite of herself, Korra looks up at the screen. The slide is of a case file from the sixties that has been marked “Confidential”.

Korra raises an eyebrow, “How did you find this?” she asks the Red Lotus.

“We have our ways,” Zaheer winks. Korra takes that to mean that they've definitely obtained this information through illegal means.

P'li turns turns to the next slide, the first page of the case file. Much of the file has been blacked out, as these files tend to be, but as far as Korra can tell, it seems to be about the photographer who went missing. The first page has information that Daisy had already told them, but it's the next slide that makes Korra gasp.

It's a blurred image of Agent Kya, Korra's teacher and mentor at Quantico. Kya stands in the Vietnam forest, covered in dirt and bruises and small cuts. P'li turns to the next slide and Korra gives up on trying to feign indifference.

“It's a bit difficult to read,” P'li says, pointing to the screen on which is projected a page written in tight handwriting that Korra knows is Kya's, “But it's essentially the tale of how this particular agent, along with her partner, was assigned to the case of the missing photographer. She never encountered the Face Stealer itself, but she did lose her partner under very mysterious circumstances”.

“It was the post-war Vietnam jungle,” Korra interjects, “Anything could have happened to him”.

“You haven't read her account,” P'li says, “I'll read it for you,” she clears her throat, “ _Today was our fifth day out on the field, and still we've not encountered this monster the photographer was raving about. In fact, all we've found has been trees, more trees, and a whole lot of mosquitoes. Not much to report._

 _Day 6: Dave claims someone, or something, is watching us. I told him he's getting paranoid, that we've just been in this jungle for too damn long, but_ _he's utterly convinced we're not alone._

_Day 8: Dave is right. I feel it too. Something is watching us. Something is following us._

_Day 9: Something went through our food supply last night. We are now down to only half our rations. We continued our trek through the forest and stopped to camp by a stream. At night we hear rustles in the underbrush._

_Day 11: We lit a fire tonight in an attempt to keep the thing, whatever it is, away from our camp. Dave is getting more paranoid, trying to convince me to turn back. I remind him that we have a mission to fulfill._

_Day 12: We fell asleep around the fire last night, huddled up against each other. When we woke up, the fire was out._

_Day 13: We found strange tracks around our camp this morning. It's like nothing I've ever seen before. We are being hunted. We are being played with. I am sure of it._

_Day 14: Dave wandered off today. He told me that he couldn't take it anymore, that it was time to face the thing head-on. It's night. He still hasn't returned._

_Day 15: Still no sign of Dave. I'm at the tail-end of our rations. I try to eat a quarter portion, try to save food for Dave, but I know, deep down, he's not coming back._

_Day 16: I've decided to wait for Dave one more day, and then I'm turning back._ _I need to get out of this jungle before I lose it too._

_Day 17: Still no Dave. The strange tracks have reappeared. I can't take this anymore. I'm leaving._

_Day 18: I found Dave. Or rather, what was left of him. His corpse was floating in the stream, turned face down, his legs torn off. I turned him around. He had no face._ _I'm getting the fuck out of this jungle if it's the last thing I do._

_Day 19: I didn't even stop to make camp today. Must keep moving forward._

_Day 20: I forced myself to rest for a few hours. I awoke to rustles in the bushes, the jungle otherwise silent. Rest is now a luxury I can no longer afford._

_Day 21:_ _I made it. I made it out of that goddamn jungle. I have no idea what to tell my superiors. I just want to go home._

The journal ends there,” P'li finishes. Everyone is silent, taking in the story. Korra feels a chill as she realizes that Kya would never lie on a case report. Somehow people were losing their faces. She's not convinced that it's some mythical face stealer, but the scientific ramifications of this alone are enough to shake her to her core.

“What happened next to the agent?” Sato asks.

P'li turns the slide, “She went on to create the X-files”.

Korra and Sato look at each other in shock. It's time to pay her old teacher a visit.

- 

Kya has just finished teaching her last class of the day when she gets the phone call in her office.

“Hello?” she speaks into the phone.

“You will tell them nothing,” a voice says at the other end.

“Excuse me?”

Click! Whoever is on the other line hangs up.

Kya is putting the phone back in its cradle when she receives the second phone call, this time from her ex-student Korra. She listens to Korra's request, and suddenly the previous phone call starts to make a lot more sense.

-

The next day, Asami and Korra knock on Kya's door. The door opens and on the other side stands an older woman with long grey hair and shining blue eyes.

“Come it!” she motions, and Asami and Korra walk through the door. Asami takes in the house's interior. The walls are covered in paintings and masks that have clearly been acquired on many trips around the world. The room smells of incense and soft classical music comes from a boom box in the corner of the room.

“Korra!” she opens her arms and embraces her former student, “How have you been? How's the X-files been treating you?”

Korra grins and steps back, “Sato, this is my old teacher, Kya. Kya, this is agent Asami Sato, head of the X-files”.

“Excellent!” Kya claps her hands together, “Well, have a seat and I'll bring out some tea,” Kya motions to a short table surrounded by comfortable looking pillows. Asami and Korra have a seat while Kya sashays to the kitchen to make the tea. The pair sit in silence as they wait until Asami can't take it anymore.

“Raava,” she says, “Who exactly is Kya?”

“She was one of my teacher's at Quantico, her focus was in criminal profiling when I was there, but clearly I don't know much about her life before then”. Asami nods thoughtfully as Kya walks back into the living room, a tray in her hands. She sets the tray down on the table and takes a seat next to Korra.

“Would either of you care for some calming jasmine tea?” Kya asks and both the agents nod. Kya serves them each a cup of steaming tea before serving herself, “Now,” she says as Asami takes a sip of her tea, “What did the two of you want to know?”

“How did-,” Asami starts but Korra interrupts her.

“You started the X-Files? And you never told me?” She puts down her cup.

“Ah, the X-Files,” Kya sighs, “Yes I was the first agent to open them up, but those days are behind me, I fear”.

“But you must know so much!” Asami says, her eyes shining with admiration, “All the things you've seen!”

“Well,” Kya chuckles, “Yes, I've seen quite a lot in my time, things the two of you would probably never believe”.

“I think you'd be surprised at what I would believe,” Asami gives a half smile, “In fact, I have a few questions about one of your 'unbelievable' cases”.

“Is that so?” Kya takes a sip of her tea, “Fire away”.

“That time in Vietnam-” Asami starts.

“Oh, Vietnam,” Kya says, “The case that started it all. I don't know how many of your questions I can answer about that, you see, I never solved that case”.

“We know,” Korra says, “That's why we're here”.

“We're on the case right now,” Asami adds, “And we need your help”.

“You're after the Face Stealer?” Kya asks, her face pale.

“Ye-,” Asami starts.

“Not exactly,” Korra interrupts, “We just want the truth. We want to know why people lost their faces. I personally doubt it has anything to do with mythology”.

“The truth, eh?” Kya asks, “Well, I'd give the two of you my case files, but those were confiscated by the Bureau”.

“We know,” Asami says, “We've seen them”.

“You have?” Kya raises an eyebrow, “I'm not even going to ask how you find those. I'm afraid I can't tell you much more than what you already know, then”.

“Do you really believe that the Face Stealer is behind this?” Asami asks.

Kya sighs, “After everything I've seen, I'd have to say yes, yes I do”.

Korra looks at her mentor, her mouth agape, “Really?” Kya nods.

“What do you think it is?”Asami asks.

“I have my theories, but I can't say for certain. It could be some form of alien intelligence, or even a Spirit”.

Asami looks at her in wonder, “You really think it could be a Spirit?” Kya nods. Asami sits in silence for a moment.

“Agent Kya,” Asami says, “Is there any way you'd be able to give us the coordinates you were searching through?”

“The coordinates?” Kya muses, “Now, I don't know them off the top of my head, but I can call in a few favors and find out”.

“Perfect,” Asami grins.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Short chapter today, sorry about that!
> 
> Anyway, feel free to follow me at hansolosmother.tumblr.com!
> 
> Also, I'm taking fic commissions. Contact me here or on there if you're interested. 
> 
> I track the tag fic: when extremes meet, so if you want to talk about the fic, please tag your posts as that!

“It started when I was a kid,” Asami starts. The two agents sit in her home, a small, messy apartment in the suburbs of D.C. “I was about ten years old when they took her”.

“They?” Korra asks.

“You're not going to believe me, but spirits. They took her to the spirit world”.

It was clear to Korra that Sato had clearly developed this idea as a sort of coping mechanism to deal with her mother's disappearance.

“Dad was at work,” Asami continues, “Mom and I were indoors, baking cookies, when _they_ came”.

“'They' meaning spirits?” Korra asks. Asami nods.

“This giant angry spirit just carried her off. I don't know where or why, but it did. I still remember her screams as it dragged her away from me”.

“What did they look like?” Korra asks, humoring Asami.

“Hold on,” Asami stands and rummages around in a drawer before bringing out a folded, worn sheet of paper. She hands it to Korra, “They put me in therapy. My therapist was kind of new agey, believed in the healing power of art,” Korra has to stop herself from scoffing. If anyone is kind of new agey, it's Asami Sato, “So I made this”.

Korra unfolds the paper and looks down at it. It's a clearly a child's drawing, but the feeling behind the drawing feels anything but childlike. It was clearly drawn in confusion, in anger, in pain. Feelings no child should feel. The drawing itself is of a large, glowing monster with red eyes, dragging away a woman by the hair.

“Sato,” Korra says softly.

“I’m fine now,” Asami gives a small smile, “But anyway, after we lost Mom, Dad kind of lost it. I had to live with an aunt. I haven’t seen him in years”.

“I'm so sorry, Sato,”

“Eh, it's not your fault,” Asami shrugs, “Besides, all that’s the reason why I joined the X-Files. And if I hadn’t joined the X-Files, I wouldn’t have met you”.

Korra smiles, fighting the guilty feeling that threatens to overtake her. Asami’s been nothing but nice to her, and she’s repaid that with nothing but biting sarcasm and annoyance.

They spend the afternoon talking, Korra telling stories about her days at Quantico, Asami filling Korra in on all the wild cases she’s taken. They talk late into the night, not even noticing when the sun sets or when the clock strikes 12.

-

Korra arrives at work the next morning in much better spirits than she had the days before. Her and Asami’s new rapport makes going to work on the X-Files seem less like a chore. In fact, she’s even looking forward to the day with enthusiasm, which is a first for her.

“Sato,” Korra nods at her partner, who sits at her desk looking at a piece of paper.

“Raava!” Asami smiles, “Your teacher sent us the coordinates!”

Korra makes her way to Asami’s desk and looks down at the paper, “Sato,” Korra says, “We’re not seriously going to Vietnam, are we?”

“‘We’re’?” Asami looks up at Korra hopefully.

“Of course,” Korra shrugs, “You’re my partner. Can’t have you going off to a dangerous jungle all alone”.

Asami beams.

-

Korra is packing when she gets the phone call.

“Hello?” she speaks into the phone.

“Is this, uh, Agent Korra Raava?”

“Yes, this is she,” Korra replies.

“Good. It’s my aunt, Kya. She’s in the hospital and she’s asking for you”.

It’s all Korra can do to stop herself from hanging up right then and running out the door.

“I’ll be there,” she says, “Thank you for calling”.

Korra rushes out of her house and drives about five miles over the speed limit. She can’t help but feel that whatever happened to her old teacher, it’s her fault.

-

Asami gets the phone call when she’s in the middle of watching yet another rerun of Happy Days.

“Hello?”

“Sato, it’s me,” Korra’s familiar voice comes from the phone.

“What is it, Raava?”

“It’s Kya. She’s in the hospital. They don’t know if she’s going to make it. She wanted to talk to me, but she slipped into a coma before I could get there”. Asami hears Korra hold back a sob.

“Stay at the hospital,” Asami stands up, “I’ll be right there”.

-

Asami rushes to the fourth floor of the hospital, where she finds Korra sitting defeatedly on a bench.

“Raava?” Asami says softly.

Korra looks up, tears streaming down her face.

“Sato,” Korra stands, “You came”.

“Of course I did,” Asami pulls Korra into a hug, “What are partners for?”

Korra pulls back and smiles weakly up at Asami.

“They found her in her house. Everything was ransacked. She has multiple concussions. Somebody did this to her, on purpose”.

“And you think it has to do with the case”  
Korra nods, “We need to get to Vietnam,” she sets her mouth in a grim line, “It’s just gotten personal”.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter today! Not much happens as it's a bit of a bridge chapter. Enjoy!
> 
> tumblr: Hansolosmother.  
> Fic commissions are open! Message me if you're interested.

Ho Chi Minh City is a dizzying conglomeration of a city. It’s as if somebody had cut and pasted different pieces of different cities onto one location. Tourists and residents alike mingle on the streets, while skyscrapers and Buddhist temples keep each other company. Korra sits in the backseat of an old taxi, taking it all in. 

“Isn’t it amazing, Raava?” Asami looks eagerly out the window, “What a city!” 

“We’re not here to sightsee, Sato,” Korra says, though she wishes that were the case. The closer they get to the site of the agent’s disappearance, the more unsettled she becomes. She’s positive that what they’re dealing with isn’t a spirit or a literal face stealer, but there is something going on here, something that she doesn’t fully understand. And what she doesn’t fully understand terrifies her. 

After what feels like hours of sitting in traffic, the taxi brings them to Ben Duoc in the Phu My Hung district, where one of Asami’s contacts has agreed to meet. Korra and Asami make their way to the flower garden at the memorial temple and wait for the contact underneath a tree. 

“Hello, Agent Sato,” A grey haired Vietnamese woman walks up to them. 

“Hello,Dr. Nguyen,” Asami holds out her hand for Dr. Nguyen to shake, “Thank you for agreeing to meet”. 

Dr. Nguyen nods. 

“I’m Agent Raava,” Korra shakes her hand as well.

“Dr. Anh Nguyen, Professor of History at Vietnam National University”. 

“What do you have for us?” Asami asks eagerly. 

“Walk with me,” Dr. Nguyen smiles. She leads them down a path in the flower garden that leads them past brilliant purple flowers, “You seek the Face Stealer, correct?”she asks. Asami nods before Korra can correct Dr. Nguyen, “Not much is known about it,” Dr. Nguyen continues, “Beyond what I’m sure you already know, of course. Legends say that it has been around for centuries, that it has haunted those living in the small villages of the jungle for as long as anyone can remember,” Asami nods, “It’s an imitator, seeking to collect all the faces it can for its use”. 

“We know all that,” Asami says, “Do the legends know of any way to stop it?” 

Dr. Nguyen stops walking, “According to one legend, many centuries ago, a boy from one of the villages was able to escape the Face Stealer”. 

“How?” Asami raises an eyebrow. 

“By not making a single expression. In that specific legend, that’s how the Face Stealer takes its victims’ faces: by waiting for them show a hint of emotion. It feeds off of that emotion, taking the face for its own”. 

“Is that the only story where anyone has escaped?” 

“It’s the only one we know of”. 

“Well, that’s good to know”. 

“Sato,” Korra says, “You can’t be serious. We can’t go up against… whatever this is with just a handful of legends!” 

“You’d be surprised at how much truth legends can contain,” Dr. Nguyen says. 

 

After their discussion with Dr. Nguyen, Korra and Asami check into their hotel and Korra heads to her room. After throwing herself on the small bed, she hears a knock on the door. 

“Come in!” She calls with no intention of getting up. 

The door opens and Asami walks in. 

“Sato, what’s up?” Korra asks. 

“I’m going to go check out the sights, you wanna come with?” Asami asks. 

“Nope,” Korra stretches, “This may well be the last time I get to sleep on a bed for a while, and I plan to take full advantage of that”. Asami chuckles at this. 

“Want me to get you anything?” 

“Just bring back some food,” Korra yawns, “I’m going to take a nap”. 

Asami nods and leaves the room, closing the door behind her. Korra settles in for a nap. 

A few hours later, she hears a knock on the door again. 

“Comin,” Korra says blearily and walks over to open the door, “Sato,” she says when she sees that it’s Asami on the other side of the door, “You’d better have brought me food, “she lets Asami enter the room. 

“Here,” Asami puts a large bag on the table, “I brought a few more things too”. She takes a pair of Vietnamese theater masks out of the bag and hands a blue one to Korra. 

“What are these for?” Korra examines the mask. 

“Well, Dr. Nguyen said the Face Stealer only takes faces when they make an expression, right?” Korra nods, “So I figured that wearing masks would be easier than keeping a blank expression”. 

“And if the legends can’t help us?” 

Asami grins, “Well,” she reaches into the bag and pulls out a sawed off shotgun “That’s what this is for”. 

 


End file.
